


Now the Battle, Soon the War

by AngryPirateHusbands



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Feelings, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/AngryPirateHusbands
Summary: The English have been driven back from Maroon Island in a hard fought victory. When Flint returns to the camp and sees Silver, alive and unharmed, he begins to realize just how much the man means to him.Immediately after the S3 finale.





	

Moonlight filtered through the walls of the shack that was settled on the camp's outskirts. The luminescent rays allowed a soft glow to outline the various objects strewn about the room. The supply crates laden with books and charts, the swords and pistols lined up against the wall, cleaned and polished and ready for another fight. Not to mention the clothing that had been thrown so carelessly to the ground. The mess was such that it was difficult to discern between what was his and Silver's. Not that it much mattered. Both were tattered, muddy, and splattered with blood. Though he mused that his were perhaps a bit more worse for ware. He had done his absolute best to keep Silver as far from the battle as possible. Of course Flint had only been able to accomplish such much, and had to settle with the quartermaster leading the defenses within the camp. In retrospect, he shouldn't have expected any less. Despite Silver's injury he was far from incapable, and even farther from acknowledging his new limitations. As such he had refused to shy away from the conflict.

When the smoke had finally settled and the gunfire had given way to silence, Flint watched as the remaining redcoats made a scrambling retreat. He didn't remember pushing down the musket barrel held by one of the men that had come to his side, ready to fire. All he remembered was the stench of blood and gunpowder as he hollered his warning into the thicket of trees. Letting the cowards know that this was not the last of them, and to tell their governor that he was coming for him. That they were _all_ coming for him. The captain then gave his crew their orders. Half the men would tend to their wounded ranks, the other half would deal with the remaining redcoats. Whether that meant rounding them up as prisoners or putting them to the sword, he didn't much care. Now that Hornigold was dead and the battle won, only one thing held his focus.

The moment Flint had returned to the edge of the camp he began his search. Green eyes quickly scanned over the wreckage the opposing forces had wrought. Over the structures that had been damaged or outright destroyed by their cannons, over the smoke that was still settling, and over the debris and the scattered corpses. When he at last found what he was seeking his breath all but stilled in his chest. Silver emerged from the smoking wreckage with Madi not far behind. When the quartermaster met his gaze his eyes were bright and his stance tall with pride. The battle had been hard fought and they were victorious. But most importantly there stood Silver. Alive, safe, and mostly unscathed.

As Flint made his way down the sloping tree line he could feel the way Silver's eyes moved over him, scanning for any severe injuries just as he had done not moments before. The instant he was within reach Silver had pulled him into a kiss. It was quick and chaste, Silver's hand settling on his cheek as their lips melded together. Yet all too abruptly they had parted. Shouts and cheers had started to rise in the air as the men returned to the camp. There was much to be done before they could truly revel in their victory, but it was impossible to deny the energy that coursed through them all. Their plans had been carried out without a fault. Hornigold had taken their bait and led his forces straight to them. While there had been casualties of course, it appeared there were far less than what had been projected.

Flint didn't realize that his eyes had fallen shut until the man gave a small tug against his bloodied shirt. Green eyes opened to meet those blue depths, and within them held the promise that they would continue this later. Flint lightly cupped the side of Silver's neck, the man swallowing as he pressed their foreheads together. The pad of his thumb stroked against the edge of his jaw. They allowed themselves but another moment, their gazes lingering as they each returned to their separate duties. Silver withdrew to the heart of the camp with a handful of men to conduct a sweep while Madi returned to the women and children that had been kept safe below. Flint went back to barking orders at the men as they secured the prisoners and tended to the wounded. Afterwards they would see to burying their deceased.

To say that the day had been a grueling one was a vast understatement. But by the time night had finally fallen, the trials of the day had passed and given way to something better. Fiddles mixed with the sound of drums and singing chants filled the air. Flint's crew ate and drank with the men of the Maroon camp as they shared in the celebration of their mutual victory. By all appearances the two camps had finally joined as one. It didn't take Flint long to find the Maroon Queen among her people. She stood alongside her daughter on one of the high bridges so as to better oversee the merriment, their guards at her side. When their eyes met, she gave a nod weighted with approval and respect and Flint readily returned it. Perhaps this partnership would see this war meet its end after all.

However, Flint could not reflect on this hope for long as another soon stole his attention. Silver stood on the far side of the fire with a handful of men from both of their camps. They had formed a half circle around him and we're listening intently as he spoke. Based on the expressive manner in which the man was using his hands, he was either recounting an exaggerated version of today's battle or sharing one of his numerous jokes. When the men erupted into laughter he settled on the latter. Silver must have felt the eyes on him for he turned to meet his gaze as the men continued to laugh. That rare smile, genuine and warm, rested on his lips. Flint gave a slight tilt of his chin, his eyebrow arched, and Silver nodded.

It had taken Silver a minute or two to excuse himself. While Flint always found it easy enough to slip away, he was not as beloved as his quartermaster. Even so, the man was eventually able to pluck himself free with that silver tongue and coerced the men to return to their drinking without him. The two were silent as they made their way through the camp. Flint kept a slow pace as always so that Silver wouldn't need to put any more undue stress on his leg. The moment the two were alone and behind closed doors the space between them became nonexistent. Flint's hands cradled Silver's face as their mouths crashed together. Silver clutched the front of Flint's shirt in a tight grip. Their lips slid together before quickly parting and giving way to teeth and tongue.

Flint wasn't exactly sure just how long they had remained that way. Time seemed to stand still as he held Silver's face in his hands, tasting his tongue and sucking and biting that plump lower lip. All he knew was that by the time he withdrew they were both breathless. A thumb stroked over the man's cheek as he stared into those blue depths. The next time their lips met they did so with a soft tenderness. A small smile tugged at the corner of Silver's mouth before he let his lips trail along the captain's jawline. A hand moved down his chest to hook his fingers in the edge of his trousers and tugged, and all at once that spark returned with fervor. Passionate bites and kisses continued and their hands began to grope and wander. Their bloodied clothes were hurriedly ripped off and dropped to the floor as their more primal desires came into play.

Flint wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was the adrenaline that continued to pump through their veins from a day spent fighting, or maybe it was the relief that they had both escaped this battle relatively unscathed. No matter the reason the two found themselves giving in to their desires late into the night. They kissed, stroked, and groped at each other, touching boldly and without fear. And when they fucked they did so unabashed, Silver finding himself unable to stifle his moans and Flint unwilling to make him. In this moment, with all that they had accomplished today, Flint couldn't find it in himself to care. In fact, he strived to elicit every sound imaginable from the man spread out beneath him. He wanted to hear Silver's voice, revel in his moans, and listen to those panted gasps as if they were a whispered prayer. He fed off those lovely sounds and they only further spurred his lust.

By the time their desires had been fully sated, the camp outside had fallen into the gentle silence of sleep's embrace. Flint now relaxed back against the mattress and listened to the song of crickets chirping in the surrounding forest. When combined with the moon's glow it created quite the peaceful scene, far from the chaos and blood of the day. A thin sheen of sweat still clung to Flint's skin, and the contrast against the night air caused gooseflesh to raise on his arms. His limbs felt wonderfully heavy as they sank into the straw bedding beneath him. Silver was fast asleep beside him, his form loose and warm from their coupling. Beneath the thin cotton sheet that was pulled up to just below their hips, their twisted bodies were completely bare. It was rare for them to spend the evening together after fucking. Especially here on the island where there were so many people. But today on the battlefield everything had changed. When they finally collapsed against each other, neither so much as made a move to get dressed. Silver didn't ask if he should leave and Flint didn't tell him to stay. There was simply a quiet understanding between the two of them, just as there now was with most things.

Flint's thumb lightly traced over Silver's forearm in small circular motions. The man's head rested against his chest, providing a comforting weight he hadn't realized just how much he missed. The moonlight streamed into the cabin at such an angle that he could perfectly see the surprisingly delicate features of his face. The long eyelashes that rested against his cheeks as he slept so peacefully. The dark curls had fallen loose from their tie and spilled down the slope of his shoulders. A few stray locks tickled the captain's chest with the rise and fall that accompanied each slow breath. Silver's form was warm against his own, his injured leg resting atop Flint's knee and an arm crooked against his chest. With his free hand Flint brushed over the quartermaster's fingertips with light touches.

As Flint watched the man sleep he felt a familiar sensation unfurl deep within his center. It was a glowing warmth that spread through his chest to his extremities. When he reached up to stroke his cheek he let his eyes fall closed. The moment he had seen Silver alive and well among the smoke and debris he had felt it. And now as it weighed down on him he began to recognize it. It was a sensation he had first experienced when he was a lieutenant back in London. Years ago when he had first met Thomas and then Miranda. Not affection, but something deeper. Flint released a steady breath as he turned to gaze up at the ceiling. _You are not alone..._ He wasn't sure how it could have taken him so long to realize the meaning of those words.

The two of them had started their physical tryst as far back as their hunt for the Urca gold. However, bending to one's physical desires could hardly be considered something of significance. Their encounters had lacked any resemblance of intimacy. However, after Charlestown their physical affair began to develop and even flourish. Their touches gradually become more purposeful and their kisses developed into something softer. Though neither would admit it, it became clear that whatever was going on between them was not merely physical. They had grown to be partners, friends, and even equals. Yet the other night when he had finally opened up and revealed his past with Thomas, he could not have anticipated Silver's response. The man posed no questions and conveyed no unease at the fact that he had loved another man. That this war had risen from the ashes of it. Instead he looked at him with a calm understanding.

How had this happened? How had this man come to be such an integral part of his life? Of his very identity? What drew Flint to this man now went far beyond lust from months at sea. He was drawn to John Silver in ways he did not yet fully understand. Perhaps he never would. But as he watched the man sleep so soundly against him, as he felt that warm body wrapped in his arms, he was certain of one thing: this man meant something to him. The relief that overwhelmed him today when he saw that Silver was safe was proof enough of that. The warmth that now swelled in his chest was one he never thought he would experience again. Yet here it was and he was overcome with it.

This war with England had begun with Thomas, had _raged_ with Miranda, and Flint would make certain it reached its end before Silver became lost to him as well.


End file.
